第七章（第9/17页）

“这地方真是糟透了！”她轻声说，扫视着凄凉衰败的拉格比，眼中充满厌恶。她看上去温和热情，像熟透的梨子，但骨子里却是位地道的女战士。

She went quietly in to Clifford. He thought how handsome she looked, but also he shrank from her. His wife's family did not have his sort of manners, or his sort of etiquette. He considered them rather outsiders, but once they got inside they made him jump through the hoop.

她面色平静，进门去找克利福德。他心想这女人真是英姿飒爽，可暗地里却惧她三分。他妻子的家人不像他这般讲究规矩和礼节。他将他们视为外人，可每次康妮娘家来人，他也不得不勉为其难，假亲假近。

He sat square and well-groomed in his chair, his hair sleek and blond, and his face fresh, his blue eyes pale, and a little prominent, his expression inscrutable, but well-bred. Hilda thought it sulky and stupid, and he waited. He had an air of aplomb, but Hilda didn't care what he had an air of; she was up in arms, and if he'd been Pope or Emperor it would have been just the same.

他衣装笔挺，在靠椅中端坐，满头金发光洁顺滑，面容清秀，淡蓝色的眸子稍稍外凸，表情难以捉摸，但却显得很有教养。希尔达看不惯妹夫这副德行，觉得那张阴沉着的脸乏味透顶。而克利福德则在等待着。他摆出一副镇定自若的神态，可希尔达并不关心他的神态如何，她已经摆好架势，就算面前的是天王老子，她也不放在眼里。

"Connie's looking awfully unwell," she said in her soft voice, fixing him with her beautiful, glowering grey eyes. She looked so maidenly, so did Connie; but he well knew the tone of Scottish obstinacy underneath.

“康妮的样子太糟糕了。”她语调轻柔地说，那对灰色妙目怒气冲冲地瞪着克利福德。她的面容如康妮般羞怯，但他却深知那背后隐藏着的执拗，那是苏格兰人的性格特征之一。

"She's a little thinner," he said.

“她是比过去瘦点。”他说。

"Haven't you done anything about it?” "Do you think it necessary?" he asked, with his suavest English stiffness, for the two things often go together.

“难道你没采取过什么措施？”“有这个必要吗？”他反问道，彬彬有礼，但却带着英国佬的生硬傲慢，因为此二者通常混在一起。

Hilda only glowered at him without replying; repartee was not her forte, nor Connie's; so she glowered, and he was much more uncomfortable than if she had said things.

希尔达没有回应，只是怒视着他，妙语巧辩并非她所擅长，同样也不是康妮的强项。因此，她只是目光不错地瞪着他，而反倒比作答更令克利福德感觉难堪。

"I'll take her to a doctor," said Hilda at length. "Can you suggest a good one round here?" "I'm afraid I can't.” "Then I'll take her to London, where we have a doctor we trust.” Though boiling with rage, Clifford said nothing.

“我要带她去看医生。”希尔达最后说。“你能就近推荐位好医生么？”“恐怕我做不到。”“那我就带她去伦敦，那儿有我们信赖的医生。”虽然怒不可遏，但克利福德还是一声没吭。

"I suppose I may as well stay the night," said Hilda, pulling off her gloves, "and I'll drive her to town tomorrow.” Clifford was yellow at the gills with anger, and at evening the whites of his eyes were a little yellow too. He ran to liver. But Hilda was consistently modest and maidenly.

“我想我最好在这里过夜，”希尔达边说，边摘掉手套。“明天再开车带她去伦敦。”克利福德气得脸色蜡黄，傍晚时分，连眼白都泛出黄色。他的脸变成猪肝色。但希尔达依然保持着端庄温柔的姿态。

"You must have a nurse or somebody, to look after you personally. You should really have a manservant," said Hilda as they sat, with apparent calmness, at coffee after dinner. She spoke in her soft, seemingly gentle way, but Clifford felt she was hitting him on the head with a bludgeon.